


Growing Pains [ON INDEFINITE HIATUS]

by ruasquirrel



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Comedy, Domestic Fluff, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Puberty, Team as Family, Voice Breaking, aches pains and teenage awkwardness abound, at least i try to be, steven speedruns puberty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22325146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruasquirrel/pseuds/ruasquirrel
Summary: After 6 years spent in the body of an 8-year-old child, 14-year-old Steven Universe has a lot of growing to do if he wants to look his age. Fortunately for him, liberating the galaxy seems to have been the psychological kick-start he needed to get his physical form to play catch up.Looking and feeling the part certainly does wonders for his sense of identity, but nearly doubling in size within the space of two years is no walk in the park, as he and his family are about to discover.-A chronicle of the growth Steven experiences during the two years between CYM and SUTM.
Comments: 62
Kudos: 254





	Growing Pains [ON INDEFINITE HIATUS]

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy, it's been a while huh?  
> Here's an appeasement gift  
> Hope you like it!

Before his 14th birthday, Steven had never paid much attention to his size. He never noticed how he remained the same height, and the same weight, or how he retained the same bodily proportions as his 8-year-old self well into his pubescent years. To him, using a step stool to reach the kitchen counter at 13 years old was totally normal, and it wasn’t an issue that PeeDee was two heads taller, despite being the same age as him. He was just short and stocky, and that was totally fine. Never one to take measurements or monitor his outward appearance, he had gone about his business under the assumption that he was growing and ageing just like every other human being around him. Growth was a slow and constant process, after all, one which is invisible to the naked eye. It could only be truly appreciated upon looking back and seeing how much you have changed.

But when his dad opened that photo album on that fateful summer’s day, Steven had been struck with a revelation that shook him to his core.

From his 1st to his 8th, evidence of growth and change shone through in his shifting features, in the sheer contrast each new photo had had with its predecessor. From a hapless babe to a wide-eyed toddler to an excitable child.

And then the changes stopped happening. A child at 8 years old, and a child at 13. Same height, same weight, same face.

Stagnant.

He didn’t age like a normal human, and nobody knew what that truly meant for him.

Two lessons had been learned on that day. First, shape-shifting in order to look older was a _bad_ idea, and had dire consequences. Weird, magical consequences. Second, despite his strange biology and stagnated growth, the growth of a singular (but very impressive) facial hair reassured him that puberty was still very much on the table.

And boy did it end up hitting him like a freight train.

A weird, magical freight train.

* * *

From the moment he turned 14 to the moment he liberated the galaxy, Steven’s life had gone by in such a hurried blur that he had nary a moment to sit back and consider his own perception of time. With the Diamonds pacified, and the corrupted gems healed and in the process of being rehabilitated, he was given a brief period of respite; an opportunity to reflect, to slow down and contemplate his place in the new world he had created. There were talks of building a town, out in the country where the barn used to be, to serve as a home and a central hub for gems living on Earth. Steven knew that when the time came, he would play a part in those plans, but for now ‘Project Little Homeworld’ was still in its infancy. The initial planning stage wasn’t exactly something he felt he could contribute to, and besides, Peridot rarely let him get a word in edgewise during those meetings anyway.

For now, the reconstruction of his house in the wake of the Diamond attack was his first priority. That particular project was headed by Bismuth, who tackled her job with fierce enthusiasm and exacting attention to detail. No more than a week or two after returning from Homeworld, Steven found himself pulled into the reconstruction process as chief consultant.

He had just returned from running errands in town when his assistance was once again requested by his head architect.

“Steven!” Bismuth’s voice boomed across the beach, “Perfect timing, come get a look at this would ya?”

“Uh, sure, be over in a sec!” he called back, picking up his pace and breaking out into a run.

These days, he could sprint from one end of the beach to another in a matter of seconds, thanks to his gemetically enhanced speed. He was at Bismuth’s side in an instant, skidding to a stop and beaming up at her with his signature grin.

“What is it?” he asked.

Bismuth shot him a grin of her own and passed him a blueprint. In her hands it had seemed perfectly normal, but upon taking it into his own Steven found it to be comically oversized.

Or rather, he was comically _undersized_.

“That’s, uh, whole lotta paper,” he chuckled as he fumbled with the document.

“Or maybe there’s just not a whole lotta _you_ ,” Bismuth teased, making a point to regard him from an angle that accentuated his measly stature.

“Hey,” he whined, “I’m expecting a growth spurt any day now, thank you very much!”

She laughed. A boisterous, barking sound that carried with it an almost contradictory gentleness. The sound of it was enough to reassure him that, despite her teasing, she liked him just the way he was.

“Couldn’t you just shape-shift?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Not unless I wanna turn into a baby again.”

“Uh-”

“Long story.”

“Well, maybe you can tell it to me _after_ you tell me what you think of your new house,” she said with a smirk, reminding him of the blueprint still held in his grasp.

“Oh! Right, sorry.” He fiddled with the document for a moment, then recalled Bismuth’s earlier suggestion.

Shape-shifting.

It still took more concentration than he’d like to admit, but Steven was fairly competent at stretching and shrinking various parts of his body without incurring any negative effects. So long as he didn’t overdo it. He closed his eyes and focused inwards, sticking his tongue out by habit (as he often did when concentrating). He stretched his limbs, felt his muscles loosen and extend as the paper slowly uncrumpled, eventually pulling taut in his hands.

Upon opening his eyes, Steven was faced with a perfectly legible document.

Bismuth let out a low whistle.

“Very impressive, meatball,” she said warmly, tousling his hair.

He snorted and turned his eyes to the paper front of him, scanning it with as much scrutiny as he could muster. This was to be his home, after all, and this was his chance to make it as perfect as can be. He’d liked his old house, of course, his dad had put a lot of time and effort (and not to mention, money) into building it, after all. But this time he had practically unlimited resources to tap into, and a master builder at the helm. Steven had total faith that Bismuth would be able to fulfil any request he tossed her way, no matter how extravagant or ambitious.

The current blueprint displayed a house almost twice the size of his previous one, with massive windows, an extra balcony and a walkway leading up to a geometric glass dome. Placed around the central drawing were a number of ancillary sketches outlining the interior structures in more detail. The glass dome, according to the blueprint, was to have a warp pad installed inside, and the balcony at the side of the house was accessed from Steven’s room via a set of sliding glass doors.

It was, by Steven’s estimation, a magnificent building. Larger than before, yet not so huge as to feel intimidating. The wooden panelling and interior structures combined with the glass dome and huge windows created a perfect amalgamation of old and new, resulting in a house that felt modern, yet not sterile. Comfortable, and homey, and perfectly perfect.

Except for one detail.

“Uh, Bismuth?”

“Yeah?”

“If it’s not too much trouble… could you maybe add another wall to my room?”

“Sure thing.”

And that was that.

At 14 years old, Steven had finally managed to secure a privacy he had never before had the opportunity to experience, thanks to one simple request. He had known for quite some time that boys his age usually sought to carve out a space of their own, where they could assert their boundaries and take time to themselves without the constant threat of intrusion. And though he didn’t much look the part, he _was_ a teenager now.

He had faith that someday his body would mature, like PeeDee’s and like Connie’s. Someday he would grow to fit his new home, and his new bedroom, and his new life. But until then, he was happy to wait.

Fortunately for him, he didn’t have to wait long.

The construction of the new house hadn’t taken nearly as long as he had expected. Bismuth worked fast, and she worked well, and by mid-summer Steven and his family had a new, splendid residence to live in. Familiar enough to feel like home, and different enough to be cause for excitement. Bismuth had made the grand reveal on the beach, with her waiting audience stood impatiently on the sand, eager to lay eyes on the fruits of her labour.

“I think this may be my finest work yet,” she had announced, shamelessly self-aggrandising, before tugging at the corner of a massive tarpaulin sheet. It fluttered to the sand without much ceremony, but as the building beneath was revealed, each and every onlooker found themselves transfixed, gazes roaming from top to bottom and taking in every detail.

Steven and Pearl let out astounded gasps, eyes wide and glittering.

“Woah, nice”, Amethyst had said, craning her neck.

Garnet adjusted her visor, casual smile quickly transforming into a full-blown grin. Steven turned to Bismuth, regarding her with quiet awe and lifting his arm to point limply towards the temple.

“Can I…?” he croaked hesitantly.

She grinned, and with a wink tossed him a set of keys.

“Knock yourself out.”

Without another moment’s hesitation, Steven raced across the sand and bounded up the steps, hastily unlocking the door and flinging it open to set eyes upon his new living space. It was the first time he had seen the interior for himself, outside of drawings and digital projections, and he could barely contain his glee.

“We’re home!” he hollered, both literally and figuratively bouncing off the walls.

By the time his family had made their way up the steps, he had already set about exploring the room. The scent of sawdust and natural pine filled his nostrils as he zipped to-and-fro, taking stock of his surroundings, familiar and entirely new all at once.

It was more open than before, free of the lengthy counter that once created a barrier between the living area and the kitchen. There was ample space for a dining table now, one with chairs placed on all sides, a table his entire family could sit at. They could sit side by side, or face each other, or gather around in a circle and talk. The prospect of it excited him more than it probably should.

The windows were huge. He had seen them in the blueprint, of course, but nothing could have prepared him for how big they were once he saw them in person. Four panels of perfectly polished glass stacked two high on either side of the door, and extending all the way to the ceiling, allowing the sun’s rays to illuminate the interior without obstruction. Late morning light had been granted full access to every nook and cranny of the space, allowing him to appreciate every detail. The grain of the wood, the perfect alignment of the tiling and the ever-present sparkle of the crystalline cavern which housed the warp annex.

But there was one feature that Steven fixated on more than any other. Turning his gaze towards the left side of the room, he found himself staring at a blank wall. Wooden panelling, like the rest of the house, free of adornment and utterly unspectacular in every way.

But it was perfect, because it was his.

“I’m gonna go check out my room!” he called out, throwing a cursory glance in Pearl’s direction, who had been closely admiring the alignment of the structural supports.

He sprinted up the steps, taking two at a time, and quickly found himself in the centre of an empty room. Decently sized, but not yet outfitted with the furniture or myriad knick-knacks that were necessary to really call it ‘home’. That didn’t matter. What mattered was it was a _room_ , with walls on all sides. And it was his and his alone.

“Aw, man,” he breathed.

‘ _I’m gonna put my bed over there by the far wall_ ,’ he thought as he marched around the perimeter, ‘ _and the dresser can go over there, by the glass doors. And I can have a TV and I can stay up all night playing video games without Pearl knowing about it_.’

He completed a series of laps, running his fingers against the smooth grain of the wood as he went. One, two, three, four. Four walls, just like the last time he had counted them. Chest buzzing, he let out a dopey snicker, brimming with anticipation for the new and exciting space he could build for himself here. A private, personal space for doing whatever teenage boys do in private, personal spaces.

His musing was sharply interrupted by a familiar voice calling from elsewhere in the house.

“Steven!” Pearl shouted, demanding his focus, “Come help your father move your things out of the van!”

Ah, of course. His things, which he now had the freedom to place about his room in whichever way he saw fit. He grinned, and called back, as loudly and as enthusiastically as he could.

“Okay! I’ll be d-OWN in just a second!”

He clapped a hand over his mouth, totally blindsided by the shrill squawk he had somehow managed to produce from his own vocal cords. His sentence had been rudely split down the middle by an errant… something that had caused his voice to pitch up an entire octave. He tried clearing his throat, but found there was no obstruction to be cleared.

From downstairs, he heard a distinctive snort, followed by a barely supressed cackle. Amethyst had clearly found that funny, and he was surely in for a hazing as soon as he walked down those stairs.

He sighed, resigned to his fate, and started walking. But as he made his way across the room and down the stairs, he pondered the significance of what had just happened. Sure, it had sounded awful, and sure it was embarrassing, but that distinctive crack in his voice could only mean one thing. His voice was changing, like it was supposed to during puberty. He was growing, like a human being does. Amethyst’s amused laughter was enough to put a slight blush on his cheeks, but as he reached the bottom of the stairs, he greeted the Gems with an oddly self-satisfied smile.

“Dude!” Amethyst snorted, “What _was_ that?”

Choosing to remain unaffected by her attempts at teasing, Steven dug deep within himself and unearthed a small nugget of pride, which he polished off and wore like a badge.

“That, Amethyst, was my voice breaking”, he announced, puffing up his chest.

“Sounded like Pearl when she steps in dog-doo”, she retorted effortlessly, intent on demolishing the sense of dignity he had desperately tried to retain.

“Amethyst!” Pearl scolded, blush rising to her cheeks, “That was one time!”

“Eh, she’s right though,” Garnet added.

Steven deflated slightly. He had been there to witness to the incident Amethyst was referring to, and he could recall the sound Pearl had produced vividly, like an mp3 file saved on a personal computer. He played it back in his mind several times over, paying particular attention to the shrill quality of her irksome shriek. Did he really sound like that? Like Pearl had sounded all that time ago?

“W-well,” he began, desperately pushing down his budding sense of self-consciousness, “I liked it!”

A half-truth, if he were being honest with himself. He certainly didn’t like the strange noise he produced, or the way he had seemingly lost control of his ability to modulate the tenor of his voice. No, he didn’t like the break, but he liked what it represented. He liked the possibilities it presented to him.

A new voice, a new body, a new chance at being human.

“Yeah?” Amethyst asked, gentler this time.

“Yeah!” he insisted, quashing his earlier shame through sheer force of will, “Guys, my voice is _changing!_ It means I’m gonna sound older! I’m gonna actually sound my age for once!”

Another minor crack came at the end of his speech, but he chose to embrace it. Instead of cowering from it, he took it as reassurance that his previous break hadn’t been a one-off. Bit by bit, day by day, his new voice would come to him, and once he had it, it would be here to stay.

“See?” he squealed in delight, “This is what’s supposed to happen!”

“Well, I suppose it’s charming, in a way,” Pearl admitted as she watched the boy spin and leap about the room in fits of squeaking laughter.

Garnet nodded, a tiny smile playing at her lips.

“It suits him.”

No more than a minute later, Greg came through the door, breathless and sweating, and dropped a stack of boxes by the stairs. They landed with a heavy, clattering thud, drawing Steven’s eye.

“Dad!” he shouted excitedly, rushing up and pulling him into an embrace that resembled a tackle more than a hug.

“Oof!” The impact winded him, and he just about managed to stay on his feet. “I’ve only been gone for a few minutes!”

“Yeah, and you missed it!”

“Missed _what_?” Greg asked, rising panic evident in his tone.

“My voice cracks! My voice is breaking!” Steven clarified, pitch going askew and rendering his explanation pointless.

“Holy smokes!” he exclaimed, disbelieving, “First the facial hair, now this!”

Just before he allowed himself to get swept up in the celebratory atmosphere, Greg paused. He swung his arm over his son’s tiny shoulders and leaned in close.

“Uh, I already gave you the ‘talk’, right?”

* * *

After a long and arduous day of ferrying box after box of his things up to the house, deflecting Amethyst’s probing questions about human puberty all the while, Steven trudged up the stairs to his new room. Eyelids heavy and muscles aching, he sank into his bed with a grateful sigh and allowed his eyes to lazily roam about the space. A room enclosed on all sides, dark and solitary. The dresser and the bed had been set into their places, but the rest of the room was occupied by cardboard boxes and various pieces of unfinished furniture. His new TV cabinet lay strewn across the foot of the bed, in pieces, instructions tossed to the side in a wadded ball. Many of his things had been set onto the shelves above his bed. A mug scribed with the incorrect spelling of his name, photo albums, ring binders, board games, the moon goddess statue; trinkets and keepsakes from past adventures and nights in with his loved ones. His new room was slowly taking shape, and it would soon be filled to the brim with all of the things he kept close to his heart, as well as the things he held onto simply because he couldn’t bring himself to throw them away.

It was personal.

It was private.

It was …lonely.

The Gems were rarely around when he went to bed anyway, but something about not being able to look down into the living area made him feel strangely boxed in. Separated from the rest of the world. He was no longer looking down into his family home, but staring at a wall. A totally blank, totally new, totally unfamiliar wall.

He let out a huff and turned over, instead opting to gaze out the doors leading to the balcony. He could see the ocean, same as he always had, but it felt further away now. He could no longer reach out and touch the glass to trace his fingers along the shore, or draw shapes amongst the stars like he had on so many sleepless nights before.

Another sigh escaped him, deep and languid, and he rolled onto his back. Closing his eyes, he shut out his unfamiliar surroundings, instead homing in other, more familiar sensations. He felt the cushioned fabric of his duvet, a soft and comforting weight over his tired body. He focused on the sound of the ocean, which lazily lapped at the shore. In and out, in and out, with the same lackadaisical rhythm he had always known. It would take some getting used to, to be sure. The new house, the new room, the new voice. Steven assured himself, as his consciousness faded, that he would learn to like his new normal. This home may be different, but it was home, nonetheless.

Before long, the steady metre of the ocean’s lilting sway had lulled him into a deep, contented sleep, just as it had so many times before.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Steven has canonically already had the 'talk'  
> I don't really like it when he's portrayed as completely clueless about puberty related things, the boy's a bit naive but he's not stupid, and Greg is a very progressive parent who probably encourages comprehensive education and open discussion about that sorta thing.  
> So, I'd like to think Steven takes a lot of this stuff in stride, seeing as he was trapped in a pre-pubescent body for so long.  
> This chapter was so fun to write, and there's more where that came from!  
> A LOT more, hehe


End file.
